The Fallen Ones
by LostinNY
Summary: Castiel goes to find some answers from an unusual angel and finds forgiveness instead. If people like it is the start of a much longer story which will involve the Winchesters. Would like to play with all the Jewish angel mythology of the late middle ages.


The Fallen Ones

Chapter One - Rituals

_May 1987, Massachusetts_

The young woman watched the golden hues of the setting sun reflect upon the choppy waters. Her nightly ritual felt like it should have been proscribed ages ago. When she was young, she had embraced it with the fervor of a convert. But now, as the years passed it had become an empty exercise of futility. It was worse here, the lighting was different and the water dark and brackish. These were not the sweet waters of the Mediterranean and she considered going back to her ancestral home. But still, she forced herself to endure her meditation when practical. She tried to remember what her father's exact words about traditions and rituals. It was on the day of her mother's funeral and she has been devastated when they placed her shrouded corpse into the ground. He said they were the first things that he needed to teach her, before math, science and history, because that is how the living endured the pain that is life.

One night, when she was almost a woman but still clinging to her childish notions, she refused to watch the sunset, listen to his stories or recite his prayers. He seemed desperate that she pray to his god; the only one which he permitted to be worshipped in their home. His face full of fury and tears when she left the balcony and later she found him crying, something she thought he was not capable of. He was not a sentimental man, not in the least. She had no idea that she had been sentenced to death and before the night ended that her father, the man she knew as the trader Samael, would be reaping the soul of his firstborn child.

She pulled her shawl tight as the tendrils of winter swept into her bones. The spray of the water that occasionally misted her skin was positively balmy compared to the wind that whipped around her hair. She was surprised to hear the rustle of wings behind her and at first thought it was a flock of greedy gulls. She soon sensed her mistake and froze for a second, quickly considering her options. She did not turn to face them; instead let herself revel in the moment. The number five was far too many or not nearly enough depending on why they had come to visit her. After all, she had left enough warnings that she was not to be disturbed by the presence of Legion.

"You are interrupting my meditation, dangerous even for an angel of the Lord." Her threat was not directed to anyone in particular, but to the entire group. Mashhit sighed and turned around facing the small assembly of Legion before her. She wondered what they had all promised the foolish mortals that had entrusted their very lives to a group of butchers that viewed them as nothing more than cattle.

"Stop killing the messenger, Heaven doesn't use telegrams." A young woman stepped forward. She was dressed in office attire with big round glasses and a tight bun. The rest were dressed according, trying to project authority and control, except the lanky young man in the janitor coverall. He was out of place. She wondered why he didn't get the memo that you were not tied to your vessel's clothes. Then, she realized it was probably _him. _ He was always the square peg trying to fit in the round hole. She hardly could believe he was that stupid. He was quite vulnerable in this state. She was amused at the woman's attempt at levity, after all these years, they were as alien to her as she was to them.

"That was a poor attempt at humor, but I give you points for putting yourself out there. I'm in a fairly good mood so please let us end the patronizing or I might be forced to show you what really amuses me." The angel stepped back; a look of fear crossed her face. Legion was not as tough as they appeared, they always acted too rashly. Sanctimony had a way of befuddling their senses, Mashhit was patient but she finally forced her gaze upon her. Transfixed, it was little to walk up and take her by the arm and whisper something quickly into her ear. She picked up her head with her other hand until their eyes met. Mashhit would not allow the rude angel to break gaze and the angel began to weep pitifully.

"Where is Anachel?" The woman peered into the angel's eyes and the messenger started to shake. She reminded her of a deer stuck in the headlights, not realizing it had the power to escape. It was not the first time she had seen this one, after all, Mashhit was always being watched when she interacted with humans. On occasion she would glimpse them in the shadow or listen to their mindless chatter. But that took effort and her work was exacting. It was just the first time that she really took notice of her. Most angels had learned a long time ago never to disturb the abomination; who was known to be emotional and volatile. She had been long banned from every realm in Heaven save her father's. Mashhit had no love for Legion and the feeling was mutual.

"Enough. You have enjoyed your recreation." A voice resembling authority rang out among the gathering. She was hoping for better sport when she released the hapless angel that fell to the ground, shivering and incoherent. The other three angels rushed to their fallen sister's side. She deftly stepped over her as she approached him. Again, a hand reached out to touch him so she might now him better. But unlike the other one, she jerked it back quickly and a look of anger crossed her face. She was hoping it had been another. The moment was gone quickly and a sterner face was offered up.

"Castiel, the angel of Thursday, how dare you reveal your presence to me. Where is your commander?" I wish to express my complaint about this untimely intrusion. It is the time of day I thank my merciful Father for his bounty." Castiel looked at her and was not sure if she truly meant those words or she was being sarcastic.

"Gone." It was the way that he said it that gave her pause. She nodded, readjusting her shawl. She had not seen an angel take a vessel in over 2,000 years, and now their stood five. The Watchers were stepping out of their shadow realm and that was, in her opinion, a mistake. She preferred them quiet and not interfering with her existence or humanity's for that matter. Their presence could only signal pain and destruction in this realm. She had to admit, their appearance sparked her curiosity. She looked at the angel and sighed. He must have learned to speak to humans when the Spartans were all the rage. Their laconic speech had been embraced by Metatron as sublime. She found the Spartan's language representative of their society, empty and without beauty. Though, looking back, the Spartan wrote excellent erotic poetry due to their sexual repression. She smiled to herself and wondered what sort of literature Legion had composed in response to their emotional one.

She pulled her shawl tight and tried to catch his gaze. He refused to look and she shrugged. He had been trained better than the foolish one who now quivered. "Let's cut to the chase. I assume this garrison is now under your command."

He nodded. She heard them all talking in her head at once and she put a hand up to her temple. She was not skilled in telepathy, and it took a great effort to separate out their voices. Even this small number was giving her headache. She looked at the angels who were still hovering over their friend who they had lifted to a lounge chair. She sighed and put her hand up, signaling him to wait.

"Silence and I will restore her." The others looked up and Castiel ordered them to comply. Even that she found to be almost deafening. She came back a few minutes later with a fire bowl and some ingredients. She walked over to a patio table drawing her sigils with the expertise of an elder. Castiel watched her every move, not because he did not trust her, but rather to learn and observe. Regardless of the animosity between his kind and hers, he could not help but acknowledge that her mastery of spells was breathtaking. It was rumored that Raziel himself had been her tutor.

Mashhit took out her blade and quickly sliced into the palm of her hand, barely flinching. She watched the blood drip from her hand until she was certain it was enough and then she lit the flame. Unlike other angels, she did not let the sounds of Enochian thud in the air. She sang them in a melody, turning its primal, vulgar sounds into something holy and sacred. When the fire burned to ash, she took the embers, still hot, and carried them over to the fallen one. Again, he saw her wince as the ash and oil seared into her flesh. She was not like them, disassociated to some extent from pain. In some ways, she was as fragile as a human. The wind had caught her unruly mop of dark auburn curls, whipping it around her face, shrouding her pained expression from all of them.

The faint glow of the setting sun had enveloped the deck and for a moment the blush of burnished gold enveloped all of them. She knelt down like a penitent sinner, and marked both herself and their sister with the ash and then she leaned over and kissed her forehead. In that moment, the angel had found release from the nightmare she was trapped in. She quickly moved away from the young woman but not before she screamed the word _abomination_ at her. She did not mind, she hoped it would serve as a warning to others to not enter her presence without invitation. The manner of her birth should not make her rank circumspect. She was Mashhit, daughter of Samael, and an archangel though admittedly a low ranking one. She deserved their deference if not respect.

"Leave me be." Mashhit was done with this petty exercise. She turned back to the last vestiges of the sun dipping down into the horizon, returning to her place. She heard the gulls in the sky and a boat horn in the distance. No matter how she tried to drown the sounds out she could not. It was close but this was not home. Soon, the stars of a foreign sky would shine down upon her. Brutal waves driven by an oncoming storm would lull her to sleep instead of the gentle undulations of her childhood. And the worst of it, because she was what she was, she would hear the screams of the drowned sailorss whose souls were never put to be rest. They were not hers to take and she knew better than to cross those lines. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she had not noticed that there was still the stink of Legion in the air.

"Becoming their captain has made you brave." He stood beside her quietly. Nervous, because his way with human words were always awkward. He could barely read her thoughts, for they were tinged with emotions he barely understood, if at all. The fact that she did not strike out was reassuring. He looked around and wondered why she had chosen a rock in the middle of the bay to make her home.

"Your choice of home is unusual, even for a human." Castiel said. His eyes looking up at the structure, making sure they were anywhere but on hers. He found the painted thick red and white stripes utilitarian.

"I was trying to send a message that I highly valued my solitude. It was obviously lost in translation." She chose to ignore him as she went about her chores. He followed her down the stairs as she checked that the small cabin cruiser was secured properly. She could feel the storm coming. She continued her inspections, dragging her patio furniture into a shed. She did little to hide that she was annoyed at him though he did not understand why she always had to be this way. It was illogical and unnecessary, she was not without strength. He just stood there as was his usual place and observed, after all, he was a Watcher. He did not comprehend that she wanted him to help her which he would have gladly done if she requested it. It just did not occur to him. He was not omniscient and trying to read her mind would have just brought more confusion. Also, it would have been a foolish act. Such connections were reciporcal and they had long ago been warned not to open that door. He was looking foward to shedding this vessel. It made him feel vulnerable around her.

Instead she glared at him. He sighed in exasperation unsure of what was bothering her now. She had bumped her knee and howled in pain as she dragged the table into the shed. She looked over at him and cursed under her breath. She was thinking about Castiel in his true form and believed it was arrogance that stayed his hand. He had always been Anachel's muscle. He was so unlike the deizens of the Fifth Realm, and though the dark angels that inhabited it were feared by Legion, they were few and of diminutive size. They were formed in the shape of humans so as they could walk amongst them freely, making their appointed rounds. As far as she knew all of them possessed were cloaks and scythes instead of wings. Samael, their princely ruler was the exception, possessing an exceptional pair for his travels. It was said that he was as comfortable in Hell as Heaven. In deference she never broached the topic with him as the gossip surrounded his doing bothered him greatly.

And as for her brothers and sisters went, they never greeted her as one. Dark angels were solitary creatures and rarely interacted with each other let alone her. Unlike her, they were never accompanied by a garrison when they reaped. It was a delicate process and best done without hinderance. Father said it was due to her exteme youth and frankly because she was an abomination. His Father did not want her contaiminating other realms, including the one she was born in. It was the deal he made in order that she could live again.

Exhausting and sweating, the night air felt good but she feared she would catch a cold. It seems, in this realm, she was not immune to such things.

"Come." She commanded with an almost imperial tone. It was Castiel's turn to be annoyed. He was not another one of her father's lackeys that she could order around. Still, it would serve him no purpose to antagonize her. His garrison did not spend two weeks acquiring vessels so that with the wrong word spoken she would refuse to speak with him. She generally ignored Legion, not batting a single eyelash in their direction, and the fact that she addressed their presence at all tonight was shocking. Rachel was right, the vessels had made an impression. He entered the structure, and looked up the long winding stairs and disappeared. Again, she chose to act human and strode each and every one of them.

She found him standing over a table at the edge of the small, cramped living quarters she inhabited. He already felt constricted in this vessel. For a moment, he wondered how she managed to enjoy living in such a contained area. His hand was on a book of spells from the Jerassian era, someone of his rank did not usually get the ocassion to peruse such a treasure. She looked at him and actually smiled as he rifled through the pages trying to absorb it all. Why he was reading and trying to puzzle through words, she went to the refrigerator and pulled out two frosted glasses and some beers.

Even though she should have despised him; she actually liked this angel. For one, he was quieter than the others. She caught herself and laughed, he was still Legion. It would take a clever one to get her interest, and as a whole they were not the sharpest crayons in the box but there were exceptions. She was being harsh in her appraisal. She was raised with the ones created for guile, deception and seduction. Even the other angels avoided the dark ones lest they be confounded by their trickery. It was not their fault, they were created to do a difficult job that demanded a devious skill set. How else could they convince the living to willing become the dead? Unfortunately, due to the unique circumstances of her birth, she far surpassed all but Samael.

"I have no need for that. Consider it a gift." She said as she placed the glasses on the table with a bowl of pretzels that were staler than she would have liked. But honestly, he was the first company that had presented itself. She was an awkward hostess in her meager offerings but she knew the liklihood of his consuming any of it was close to nil.

"Gratitude." His eyes, a warm brown lit up, though his face betrayed no emotion. She wondered if he ever smiled. He was always very guarded around her. She patted the seat next to her. Outside she could hear the waves picking up. Looking out the window, she could tell it was going to be a violent storm.

She poured the beers but he seemed far more interested in the book. She was curious to why he had come to begin with. Most angels were quite blunt when they wanted something from her, though their motives were not always clear. He, on the other hand, usually was cryptic. It was not his fault, he was created that way. She was actually surprised when he took the beer and sipped it out of curiosity. That action alone was strange for most angels and his differences amused her. She smiled as an odd look came across his face.

Castiel found it to be cold and it had a slightly bitter taste. He was not sure whether he liked it or the sensation of trying something new. Eventually he put it down. He had a feeling his vessel would not approve, he was a very devout man. Mostly, he was thinking about what strategy he could approach her with so she would answer his question. At her best she was difficult, at her worse she was a spoiled child.

"How long have you possessed this vessel?" She inquired, cocking her head to gauge a reaction. It was a rare thing for an angel to inhabit one, that much she knew. There were certain individuals bred since the dawn of time that could contain whatever was the raw essence of angel. It was not a topic that particularly interested until now as she was born after most of the angelic wars, but now after seeing her brethren occupy them her interest was all but guaranteed. She would not even know who to ask as the cherubim totally avoided her. Once her father had formerly introduced her to Jophiel, their prince. He told her she was an invalidation of their very purpose. If a prince of Heaven could select his own bride, an act of overt disobedience, than what purpose would they serve if everyone followed suit. She was an unpleasant reminder that it had happened before and probably would again. Samael had given them a great offense for which there was no remedy. She was more than an abomination to them, she was a living proof that he mocked the Laws of Heaven.

"I kept the this one for four days, six hours, five minutes..." She put a finger up to his lips.

"I get the point. It was a short amount a time. And why did you need it?" She asked. It was a question he was not expecting nor had he prepared an answer in his head. Nervously, he picked up the beer and drank it all down. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"So we may converse in a way you find pleasing." He looked at her and noticed her eyes for the first time. In the past, he had been under strict orders from Anachel to avoid eye contact with her. Many times, he had a quick glimpse and thought they were grey. But now he saw they had flecks of blue and green and hints of gold. Her father was the fourth most beautiful angel in Heaven, objectively speaking, she would not have been far behind save for her lack of wings. It was pity her kind was bereft of them.

"And how did you convince this poor bastard to relinquish his most valuable possession? I asume some of them are as resistant as my clientele." She drank her beer more slowly than he did. He had not been expecting her to converse on these topics and he looked away, unsure of what to say. He decided it was best to say the truth.

"Many are pleased to be chosen." He stiffly replied.

"But not all. If humans were not so stubborn than we would all be unemployed, or worse, forced into choir duty." A warm smile crossed over her lips.

"He was easy to convince. He just found he has pancreatic cancer. He has 3 children and a wife whom he cares deeply for. I promised him he would wake up in his hospital bed cured." Castiel quietly considered her. He always enjoyed watching her hands. He wanted to know how she did it. She would just reach in and cut out a soul so quickly so that there was no pain. He could have asked. She would have told him the truth. In the beginning, she had caused much pain but it was her father's steady hand that trained her. Her skill, which she took great pride in, had been acquired by years of practice.

"I'm jealous. Last month, I had a little boy refusing to leave because he was afraid his teddy bear would be lonely. Three year olds are not very logical. It took me two days to convince him to leave. He put me way behind schedule. Azrael was not pleased." She yawned. She appeared to be fatigued. It was a point of derison in the garrisons assigned to her that she slept. She also dreamed. It was then that he allowed himself to get close to her, for he enjoyed watching her fragmented thoughts colliding with each other.. At times, she was so utterly human.

"Did you ever refuse an order?" It was an odd question and she was confused by it. If Michael wanted a confesion, he could have just asked her himself. She had nothing to hide, She thought a long time before she answered.

"I have never considered disobedience. After all, my very existence is predicated on the fact that my father swore my service to Lord Azrael. You cannot cheat Death." She looked at Castiel and shrugged.

"Yet, you did not reap the child called Samuel Winchester." Castiel asked. She gave him a funny look. This is what he wanted to know about.

"Gossip spreads quick. Lord Azrael has remained silent on the matter so I am confused why it matters so much to Legion. The circumstances were odd and I compounded it with foolish sentimentalities. If it was a mistake, I have cursed that poor child for life. It is my sin to bear not Legion's. What is it to you? This stinks of Michael's dog. Did Zaccariah send you?" She wondered if the angel would go soon. She had nothing to entertain him with but her books and a chessboard.

"No. We came on our own. Things are not right, my people have questions and ..." Castiel stopped. She did not know how to respond to his query. Clever Legion were scared to ask their own so they were looking to other realms to glean a clue.

"Samael does not tell me much and his agenda is not always the same as Michael's. As for the Winchester child, the order came down wrong. I don't know what is myth or not, as I have never see the Tree of Life or been shown the Book of the Dead, but I know what a proper order looks like. Joshua came to me with a leaf inscribed with the name of Samuel Winchester. It means nothing until my Master's hand as approved of it." She sighed.

"The gardener...they say he talks with our Father." Castiel's face turned to the floor. The angel was looking down on the floor. He looked rather despondent. She felt a tinge a pity for him. She had seen that look in her own father. They all seemed like lost children lately.

"So, I've heard. And I did debate it. By the time I arrived there was but a thread left keeping the child tethered to this existence. It would have been nothing to take him and I almost did." Castiel looked at her once more and decided he had been wrong, she did not need wings. Father had been right to spare her. Abomination or not, she was exquisite. She reminded him of the story of Pandora. But instead of a sculptor, her creator was Samael, the great destroyer. He was obsessed with using his demiurge to create something to rival their Father. How many of his brothers fell to this temptaion and paid dearly for it. It was the ultimate transgression, the one proscribed act he and he had reveled in. And yet, while his brothers were punished he remained free. Their Father had alwasy shown him great license but who were they to judge their Creator's wishes. Rumor was Samael had continued this tradition in Hell, laying down with Lilith, breeding demonic spawn instead of nephilim. Who knew? Michael may rule Heaven but it was said that the only thing Samael feared was Death.

"What stopped you?" Castiel heard her breath slightly increase. He sensed her weariness. He felt her heartache and lonliness but it meant nothing to him for he had no context to place it in. It was all an academic exercise.

"I heard the prayer of the righteous asking for divine intervention, unfortunately there was none to be found so I took the decision into my own hands. A child wept and my heart gave in. He was all alone in this world. I understand that better than most. " She pulled her knees underneath her chin and she bowed her head. Her hair fell over her jeans she had closed herself up like a fan. He had heard her sigh of resignation. She was not exactly immortal, but had only aged slightly over the eons. She looked maybe looked four or five years older than when they first met.

"And that was all it took? The prayer of a child to hold the mighty hand of Mashhit." Castiel's voice was accusing. He was looking for a grand conspiracy when none existed. Or maybe one did and she was unaware, these were the matters of Legion.

She picked her head up and gave him an enigmatic smile. "Of course not, it was just the excuse. As I said, the order was cut wrong. Joshua is still just the gardner, he does not trump Lord Azrael. Like all things, brother, death has rules and rituals that must be obeyed. Without them there is nothing but Chaos. Rituals mean something, it was the first thing my father ever taught me." She reached over and kissed his forehead.

"Castiel, angel of Thursday, I forgive you." Mashhit was gone as quick as any Legion. He still sensed her presence. She was within these walls but he knew not to disturb her. She had signaled that she was finished with their interview.

Castiel was still there, lost in his thoughts. All these years, he had been but an arm's length and she had never once said an unkind word or tried to exact revenge. He was nobody in particular. If she had decided to smite him, he doubted he could have stopped her or if Michael would have intervened. He would not be the first Legion to cross one of her kind, obliterated without consequence. She could have easily found an excuse if she so desired. Once an angel named Avinal called her an abomination. This was not even an unusual occurance, but she was in a foul mood and in the blink of an eye she had cut out his Grace, leaving him powerless. For a hundred years, he was just a husk to be pitied. She kept it as a charm on a bracelet, a reminder to all that she was still Mashhit, an archangel of the Lord. For twice as many years, Legion held their tongue in her presence. It was said that she never forgot an insult or an injury and he was wise to remember it.

Tonight she gave him three small words, _I forgive you_. He never asked for it or even desired it. Her fate had long ago been decided by his Father and until now he had never regretted her execution. He was without sin when he struck her down. What deal Samael struck to resurrect her was of no concern to him though he tread lightly in her father's presence, but what angel of his rank did not? Yet, there she was forgiving him. It was a divine act, a miraculous gift that his Father had granted to her mother's kin but had denied his brothers and sisters. Tonight, Mashhit, again and again, proved herself to be more human than angel. Castiel had to catch himself. He was ashamed to think how much he loved her for it.

_Angels_

_Mashhit - archangel of death asociated with children; not a nephilim just added that for drama_

_Samael - archangel of death, consort of Lilith, ruler of the Fifth Realm of Heaven_

_Jophiel - princely ruler of the cherubim, sort of the genral organizer of heaven's realm (need to find out more about him as I do not remember him in any of the tales but other sites claim he was)_

_niphilm - half-human, half-angel hybrids both mentioned in Genesis and the Book of Enoch, wiped out during the Flood but some survived. After the Deluge, 200 angels revolted against Heaven after they married women. they were imprisoned until hte end of time where they would meet their final judgement._

Raziel - one of the "Seven Terrors of Heaven". He gave a book of magic to Abraham. Caused quite a commotion at the time. He keeps all of God's secrets and relays God's messages to humankind.


End file.
